


Transition

by InikiMelset



Series: Glory To Cardassia - Part 1 [7]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 05:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InikiMelset/pseuds/InikiMelset
Summary: Deployment to Bajor to gather facts and information, but not surgically altered to look Bajoran takes an effective cover and survival skills.
Series: Glory To Cardassia - Part 1 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501346
Comments: 4





	Transition

**TRANSITION**

“You accept the mission, the background established, and the risks?” Entek looked at the operative in training who had volunteered.

"I accept," was the even reply.

"This is a test of your skills; you will be in a position to acquire valuable information on the resistance and its sources of information if successful.” He continued: “You will neither be surgically altered nor your mind influenced to make you believe you are Bajoran as is standard procedure; you will only be made to react according to their norms. Nothing in your personnel file precludes this assignment; your suggestion of five years ago is allegedly recent, leaving you on Bajor the consequence of your proposal. You will be informed in detail tomorrow at this time.

That suggestion had been to reconsider Bajoran policy and make Bajor an ally, thus freeing the forces needed to suppress the Bajoran population to occupy or liberate systems on the border, expand Cardassia’s territory.

The next day she reported to Entek's office to face an extended staff of intelligence. "You will be left near one of the villages in which we suspect resistance activity. You have suggested changes in policies. Instead of executing you ourselves, we are leaving you to the Bajorans after excising useful information from your mind. For greater credibility, your first station is Terok Nor, in one cell with Bajoran captives awaiting extradition. You may have to protect yourself. Do so at your discretion. News of your dissent will be spread to improve the odds of your survival and of your obtaining the required information."

"Your files show that you are fluent in Bajoran," was Orid Khalem’s statement.

"Yes, and I understand the main dialects even though I cannot speak them." She added, "To gain their trust, I will have to give them useful information or some minor details; if I cannot do so, they might become suspicious. An officer turned traitor. Artificially induced selective amnesia, conditioned to tend to indiscretions?”

“Acceptable.”

Entek gave her a padd, "Here is what you need to know, along with some harmless secrets you can share without becoming a candidate for execution." He smiled faintly, "Remember the details well, especially Bajoran reaction patterns. To survive, you will have to adopt them."

"Of course." She suggested, “I request I be equipped with an easily detectable subcutaneous transponder of non-military provenance to distract from the one which I received at my demand after joining the Order. When Bajorans take one of us, transponders are removed at once. They search for them where they implant those tracking their terrorists.”

“I wanted to suggest this,” was the reply. _Tain made the right choice_…“It will be implanted shortly before your mission.”

During transit to Terok Nor she concentrated on studying additional factors then, an hour before arrival, reported to sickbay for preparation. After Dr. Nyson had finished, Melset went over to a mirror, stared at her reflection in disbelief, then burst out laughing. "Well, well, well, this makes for quite a change indeed!" She touched the massive bruise on one cheek, turned to look at the back of her neck and again at her face, "Impressive. The way the rest of me feels and no doubt looks, I have gone through an especially detailed interrogation."

"To ensure credibility." The doctor gave her a capsule, "Take this just before leaving the shuttle. It will cause unconsciousness and lower your metabolic rate for roughly two and a half days before gradually wearing off."

"Making those who find me think I went through an incredibly brutal interrogation." For a moment, Melset was apprehensive. _What happens will happen…. I knew of and accepted the risks when I agreed to this_.

The beamdown to Terok Nor found her manacled and guarded by two Cardassian soldiers chosen for their size and general aspect. Melset covertly looked around as they walked towards the security area; the station had not changed since her last stay; the Bajoran ghetto was separated from the rest of the Promenade by high wire fences topped with energy fields, the gates manned by soldiers. The workers, who carefully avoided the Cardassian troops, looked exhausted, half-starved. Suddenly, a small Bajoran child, frightened by something he had seen, ran into her, fell then stared up at the Cardassians, too frightened to move, eyes wide with fear.

"Little one, don’t be afraid. You will not be harmed," Melset said gently, helping him up. Pointing at an older Bajoran who watched them anxiously, obviously fearing for his child’s safety, she added, "Look at the Bajoran man over there, he must be your father." The child ran off quickly, glancing back once.

Her captors roughly pulled her upright, jabbing her viciously with their phaser rifles. Glinn Tevruk snarled contemptuously, "You will spend enough time with those shrinecrawlers; in fact to the end of your life, traitor."

The group noticed the incident had drawn the attention of some Bajorans who turned away at once when her guards glared at them threateningly. Glinn Masok whispered, "Excellent. That scene will be discussed and spread throughout the station."

At Security Odo took them to a holding cell, occupied by females only.

"We will come for her tomorrow. See this traitor does not cause any trouble." Masok struck his captive hard enough to send her sprawling on the floor before he activated the security field, saying, "That one already has enough to account for."

The soldiers gone, she dragged herself into a corner to sit there quietly, resignedly, knees drawn up to her chest, leaning her head on her knees at seeing the other occupants' stares of hate and fear.

When they were given the one meal of the day, she turned away, refusing to touch her rations. One of the women said contemptuously, "Not good enough for you, Cardássian? Most of the time it is worse."

Melset quickly glanced over at her before withdrawing into her apprehensions but carefully listened to the whispered conversations of her cellmates who wondered at seeing an officer in such condition in their cell, and not isolated as was the custom. _Have to remember the names they are mentioning; they may just come in useful_.

The following day, two Cardassian militaries entered and briefly shut off the security field, keeping an eye on the other prisoners. "Ah, here is the traitor." She shrank back apprehensively at seeing Gul Torel who stared at her in disbelief before asking, "What is to be done with that thing?"

Glinn Masok's reply was derisive as he explained, "She is to be left to the Bajora. She even behaves like one! Central Command has sentenced her to death for her proposal: Bajorans as allies! Such an idea can only be formed in the mind of a traitor. Too bad Gul Dukat isn't here. He would find the best way to make her serve as an example to others who would presume to question policy."

"Indeed," Torel replied. "So would I, but unfortunately ..." he shrugged in mock resignation, before turning to his captive with a threatening gesture of his phaser, "What are you waiting for? Get over here! Or do you expect an invitation, traitor?"

Melset complied, struggling to her feet, averting her eyes when she was manacled yet again. She felt the stares of her erstwhile companions nearly physically.

Once more the humiliation of being marched through the Promenade, her disgrace plain for all to see, followed by beam-up to a shuttle.

"Well done, Melset," Torel said as he removed the manacles. "I hardly recognized you, the way you were cowering in that holding cell. You acted exactly like a Bajoran; for a moment I thought you'd even begin pleading for mercy! Too bad you didn’t do so. I would have liked to see and hear that from an officer in uniform…."

She stretched, “Assuredly not, but the cover has to be convincing and besides, I have to find out whether there really is a network of informants here and on Bajor. This first mission will decide whether I can continue serving Cardassia. That prison cell... The Bajora with whom I was held were huddled in a corner, watching me as if I was going to shoot them at any moment."

"You have taken a very good look at yourself, haven't you?" Torel asked, his eyes reflecting his enjoyment of the deception. "Reminds me of the Federation officer you interrogated after Glinn Lemec had a trial run with him."

An incautious gesture had her realize exactly how well Nyson had worked, "The way the rest of me feels, Dr. Nyson has made everything look convincing and the effects of the capsule he has given me should give my alleged situation added credibility."

The intercom activated: "Arrived at destination. Gul Melset, mission initiated."

"I'll go to the shuttle with you. Be strong, Gul Melset. Now for some acting. Those two guards’ act should add credibility." Gul Torel went back to his station.

When the door of the shuttle eased open upon arrival, Melset saw they were near a relatively small Bajoran village. Two troops forcibly removed her, gave her violent blows to her shoulders and to her ribs and laughed about what would probably happen as soon as they had left. _They are excellent at pretense… this will make the cover even more convincing…_ The drug hit her system; she collapsed, lay gasping for breath, hardly able to move. _Now to see what happens_; ... Everything now depended on her skills.

Some minutes after departure of the shuttle, she heard a whispered conversation that was rapidly becoming a loud argument. One of the villagers who had witnessed the scene from a safe vantage point approached her very cautiously together with a companion. Wanting to see them, she tried to move, but only managed a weak motion of one hand before she lost consciousness.

"The viper is alive!"

When the speaker made to touch the side of her neck, his friend called out, "No! Don't touch her, Kenin! I don’t trust the situation, and neither should you. Who knows why they have left her here.”

“Look,” Kenin held up his hand to show fresh blood. "She's been injured."

They cautiously turned their find over; the woman lay limply on the ground, eyes closed, breathing shallowly, unevenly, as if in severe pain. Kenin took out a hand phaser of Cardassian design, briefly aimed it at the officer then, reconsidering, shoved it back into his belt after some seconds. "Looks like the spoonheads wanted to leave that one here to be found and killed by us after mistreating her. I want to know why."

The other Bajoran asked disbelievingly, "Are you sure it was Cardassians?"

"I know their shuttles and I certainly recognize that lot."

"If she's found like this, we’ll be suspected of having attacked her, and you know what that means, a search of our village, accusations, arrests, executions. Did you see whether any others stayed behind?"

"No. I tell you again, they forced her out, struck her with their phaser rifles when she moved too slowly because of her injuries, and laughed about what they were doing. She was offered all of the privileges usually reserved for us.”

"I still say to get rid of her immediately. No doubt they'll be back to finish her off."

"We have to talk to the others first. Let's just get her out of sight. You'll have to help me." He added, “If they had wanted to eliminate her, they would already have done so.”  
Another brief deliberation, then the men agreed, "For now, she can be held in the outer room of the Arnas' house, guarded by one of the women; as members of the Healer D'jarra, they will know what to do for her. Arna Yokim has no plans at the moment, so he can see whether there is more to this."

"I don't know whether this is wise."

"Perhaps not, but they never leave one of their own, let alone a military behind. They execute their traitors in public, on Cardassia, not here. We can always get rid of this viper if necessary." He repeated, “I want to know what happened.”

Half-carrying her, they got to a house, laid her on a paillasse. The villagers who had seen them arrive with their find crowded in the doorway, staring curiously, commenting, most of them insisting the Cardassian be eliminated at once and offering quite creative suggestions as to how this could be done.

“Let me pass.” A woman went into the room and stopped in her tracks, staring at the Cardassian in disbelief for some moments then, overcoming her revulsion, touched her face hesitantly, saying, "You say this was done to her by her own people?"

“Yes. She was left here. The troops that took her out of the shuttle struck her a few more times for good measure.” Arna Kenin urged, "But be careful, Sanye, she may not be as helpless as she looks."

Without another word, she began to clean the blood off the injury the woman had sustained at being struck by the soldier. "She’s out cold," she replied, not looking up and said to her charge, "If you can hear and understand me, Cardassian, I am not going to harm you. We will find out what has happened, then decide what happens to you."

There was no reaction.

"We'll take care,” she said.

Another nearly inaudible conversation, with the Bajoran named Kenin, then “This woman is no danger, but her uniform could contain a transponder.” He quickly felt under the armour, found the pouches, but was disappointed. “Odd, no weapons, no communicator, not even an insignia. Everything of use has been removed."

“Take off her uniform, I’ll destroy it,” said Yokim, “And, Sanye, give me the bandage with which you just cleaned that cut. It’ll look as though we fried the reptile in its own shell.”

There was suppressed laughter at the phrasing.

Handing over the piece of cloth, Sanye did not reply, only had another woman come over, "Malja, help me take it off; I don't want to hurt her even more. There may be further injuries."

"They certainly don't care about what they do to us," called one of the villagers. "Just pull it off." He laughed, "Let her have some pain all her own and see how she likes it. I‘m willing to bet this one was in the thick of the latest massacres and, afterwards, bragged to her kind about how many shrine-crawlers she’d killed, or perhaps she even worked in one of the labour camps, and everyone knows what is done there."

It was Malja who retorted, "No. We do not know what has really happened. This is a Cardassian, but to mistreat or injure someone who is wounded, helpless, only because of race? The Prophets forbid it."

"Tell her about this precept once she is conscious. You will get a fitting reaction, and you know that."

Sanye did not bother replying and helped Malja undo the fastenings of the armour to take both it and the uniform off before laying her back. While removing the Cardassian’s underclothing, Malja whispered, horrified, "They must have beaten her to within an inch of her life!"

Sanye felt the victim's arms, legs and chest for fractures. When she had finished she sat back. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Get out, you others.” Suddenly embarrassed for the victim’s sake, Yokim spread a cover over her, "Why are you surprised? They do the same and worse to us." Then he added with a grimace of disgust, "Looks like everyone has a right to that privilege, not only we."

Malja waited for her sister to return, briefly spoke to her and left.

Even though her charge was unconscious, Sanye said, "For now, rest. I’m staying here with you."

A few hours later, one of the villagers returned only to hear what had happened; at seeing Yokim, he shouted angrily, “Where is that viper? I have heard that a female officer was left here! If so, she has to be killed at once!”

“Yes, just outside the village. We took her in as she was unconscious, seriously injured. Sanye is watching her.”

“You fools! You don’t have the brains you were born with! You may well have signed your own death warrants! She was left here on purpose, to spy on us!”

Sanye heard the argument that was going on outside, left her patient, locked the door and went to join the others. “What did you say, Rendon?”

“You’ve taken in a spy, damn you!” He shouted, “Prophets save us all! On Terok Nor, a spoonhead was speaking to another of her kind, said a female agent had been planted on Bajor to gather information.”

Tevrak said disbelievingly, “That can’t be. She, an agent? I have never seen anyone brutalized like that!”

“Prepared, that is all,” was Rendon’s explanation. “We have to get rid of that female at once. If you won’t do it, I certainly will!” He pushed past Sanye, “Unlock that door at once.”“Get rid of whom?”

Vedek Serad,” Rendon explained more calmly, “Yokim and Kenin found a female Cardassian, an officer, just outside the village. One of my contacts who is on Terok Nor overheard a conversation between two spoonheads some hours ago, civilians, mentioning that very female: prepared to seem a victim, left outside a village. Meant to spy on our resistance and gather enough information to destroy it.”

“Are you sure that is really the truth? Remember how they lie to realize a plan, make someone react the way they want. How do you know the Cardassian you found is what the speakers said she is? It could be that she has an enemy who is trying to eliminate her. Those people stop at nothing. Do you want to risk killing an innocent person and have to answer to the Prophets for that?”

“You mean someone of her own kind wants her dead? That the conversation was meant to be overheard?”

“Yes. You should know by now that they do this. Only four weeks ago, Glinn Seto was mentioned in connection with killing a collaborator, and was attacked in revenge. Desor was accused of the murder, leaving the Cardassians’ hands clean and using the lie to justify renewed atrocities towards us.” After some moments, Serad said, “Let me see her.”  
Sanye went in first, Serad and Kenin following her. The Cardassian was unconscious; her face was badly bruised, the cover had slipped off her shoulders, revealing massive contusions under even the thicker scales.

_They even mistreat their own_ … Horrified, he went over, looked at her. _There is something different about this one_. Reaching out, he gently touched her hair which Sanye had been braiding. _Like ours, even the colour_…. After some moments, he grasped her ear, concentrated then sat back while gazing at her, both surprised and repelled. _No, we will let you live to see what we are facing, the fear, the atrocities, the cruelty. The good and the bad. Even though you are a Cardassian, perhaps you are able to understand_…

Wordlessly, he got up and went out to the others, “I say to let her live and experience everything we experience. Watch her very carefully and in case she really is an agent, you know what to do.”

Rendon grinned in anticipation.

Serad suggested, “Information can be falsified to keep us safe, yet give her something to show for her efforts if she really is one, and not just a victim of someone’s idea of revenge. Do not trust her, but don’t mistreat her.” He repeated, “Let her live.”

Rendon and some of the others reacted with carefully-disguised outrage. _A Cardassian, in our village_. Yet they did not dare contradict Serad who had barely survived the ten months spent in a labour camp. His advice was unfailingly good, he was kind, and his sermons encouraged the villagers to keep their faith in the Prophets in spite of the evils of the present.

_He must have his reasons for this demand, as he has as little love for the Cardis as we do_, Yokim thought.

Nearly two days later, Melset regained awareness, felt warm and comfortable but extremely weak. _Still alive, so part one of the plan has worked_; she opened her eyes, was incapable of turning her head but saw she was in a small room with pale ochre-coloured walls. She had a vague recollection of nearly having regained consciousness a few times, recalled gentle touches, someone talking to her, then of losing awareness again.

A Bajoran woman came in, made eye contact with her then briefly smiled and touched her arm at seeing she was awake, “You’ve been unconscious for over two days, but you seem to be recovering; the additional warmth must have helped.”

“Anything new?” someone asked from outside.

Melset remembered that voice. Kenin, one of the two men who had found her came in to join them.

“She’s finally conscious, but very weak. You can try to speak to her.”

A tall, dark-haired Bajoran male joined Sanye. "Do you understand us?" Kenin asked, pronouncing the words slowly, carefully, indicating what he meant.

"A little," she answered in a whisper, hoping she had understood him correctly.

"Name?"

"Gul Melset."

Kenin uttered a humourless laugh, "You no longer seem to have that title. Your name, viper." He bent over and grasped her arm tightly.

"Melset Iníki." She hesitated, trying to find the words, then, with difficulty, fighting for breath, "Expected to be on Cardassia Prime."

Kenin exchanged glances with the others, "You were left outside our village by Cardassians, your own people. Why?"

She struggled to answer, hardly able to pronounce the words. "Death sentence. You...." her voice faded.

"Very likely," he turned to the others, suspicious "I still say it is a trap to get us to take in an informant." He turned back to her, gripped the Cardassian's wrist, "For what?"

"New policies ... allies." Her voice trailed off as she lost consciousness again. He waited some moments, then said, seeing there would be no reply, "We will talk when you have recovered a little more.”

Turning to the two women, he directed, "Continue observing her. If there's even the slightest trouble, you know what to do."

  
Sanye turned away at seeing that her charge was unconscious again. _Why are they so determined to destroy us that they even abuse their own for thinking otherwise_?

Intelligence had definitely chosen the right place. When she woke up late the next morning, she heard loud voices outside the door, a brief argument. With an effort, she turned onto her side, noticing with relief that the drug was very slowly wearing off.

Malja looked in and called, "Faisol, she's awake. But remember, use our standard and speak slowly. I'll wait outside."

After asking the same questions Kenin had, he turned to the others, suspicious. "Seems a trap.”

"Why were you left here?”

"Suggested making you allies. Accused of treason." Melset was relieved that she could finally speak normally.

"So your people want us to do the dirty work for them?" was the sarcastic rejoinder. “Then, after we have done them the favour, accuse us of having killed you?”

He turned her head to the side, "You've been abused," he stated. “Why?”

"Always done in interrogations." She fell silent, trying to catch her breath before adding, "Public trial. My sentence ...." Melset appeared to search for the words, "I was to be a warning to others."

"Why were you left here?"

_The Order has good reason to want an observer in this region the way this question is asked again and again._ "I do not know."

"You don't know!" He gripped her arms to pull her into a sitting position and shook her violently before shouting, "You damn vipers! You said you wanted to help us, cooperate with us when you first came! You did not wait long to show your true colours, did you? Exploiting our world, strip-mining even fertile land, using our people as slave labour, taking women from their families for the enjoyment of your officers; our culture is treated with contempt! Even our children know you want to colonize Bajor, destroy our people to the last of our kind!"

He stared at her for some time, then stated calmly. "If your friends are looking for resources here, in Rellaketh Province, they will find nothing." Another pause, "Only four years ago, a dam just on the other side of the border was destroyed because there were ores you needed under the lake! An entire village was swept away, all its inhabitants drowned! Spoonhead bastard murderers!" Thoroughly enraged, Faisol pushed her away as hard as he could.

Melset cried out when she fell against the wall. _Just remembered to react as expected...Have to be cautious. One wrong word and end of mission_.

The Bajoran contemptuously watched her try to sit up, trembling with weakness. “Why were you sentenced?”

"On border patrol, knew what is happening here and disagreed."

He leaned forward, "We would enjoy trying our hand at interrogation to see whether that is true."

"Drugged me during interrogation to lower resistance, afterwards to erase recollections. Remember nothing." _They should buy that; they do not know all of the Order’s methods_.

Using the local dialect, her interrogator spoke to Malja who had just come in together with Sanye at hearing Melset cry out, "Did she say anything?"

“Only what you have already heard.”

He turned to Malja who had gone over to the Cardassian, “While she was unconscious, did she speak?”

"Before she briefly surfaced the first morning, she said something about allies, an interrogation, seemed frightened." She shook her head, "I don't know what to think. Her reactions are much different to those of the Cardassians we have seen so far.”

Yet another dialect...

"One of our men is due to return from Terok Nor." Faisol turned to Melset, again using his dialect, "Were you there?"

She concentrated on the words, but after a moment looked to Malja for help.

"That one really does not understand our dialect. I know, I tried," said Malja, referring to a discussion about the Cardassian's fate; Melset had not reacted to any of the suggestions which paralleled her own people's methods most impressively.

He very slowly repeated his question, using the language she seemingly was familiar with, "Were you on Terok Nor?"

"Yes, in a cell..." Pretend to have problems remembering, "… with Arna Valdis, Sarun Narena and two."

He met Sanye's glance. "So that is what happened to them!" He turned back to Melset. "What did you hear?"

She leaned against the wall, feeling weakness overwhelm her again. "Cardassia Prime … interrogation … two days." She saw Malja's eyes briefly reflect horror and sorrow before she abruptly turned away.

"You spoke for us?"

The answer was a mute nod. _This detail should make a difference, interpreting my proposal as compassion_.

“For now, you will be kept alive, mainly because your people want you dead.” Faisol stated, “We need to know more.”

Melset said very quietly, “You have my gratitude for letting me live.”

Faisol turned to the two women, “You and your family will take responsibility for this one, see to it that she does not escape.”

“She can’t even get up on her own, let alone reach a military installation.” Malja looked over at the woman who was sleeping after the exertion.

"This one can share our meals, her captors must have half-starved her," Sanje offered before saying, "We do not have much, but it should be suitable."

After a few hours she woke up and saw Sanye watching her. "You have helped us by giving us the names of the women who were with you."

“Your family?”

Sanye nodded, “Most likely they have been killed in the meantime.”

_I have to show some kind of reaction_… Melset managed to touch her hand, saying quietly, “Taken for nothing…” and averted her eyes.

The Bajoran understood and got up to hide her distress, saying, “I’ll bring the meal in and join you, but before, you may want to get dressed; that light gown is not enough.”

“This is kind.” Melset resented having to pretend thankfulness. These people's compassion was contemptible, a weakness that made it relatively easy to extract information from prisoners when they saw one of their compatriots being tortured.

_I’ll attach myself to her family group. This woman seems slightly more willing to give me the benefit of the doubt in spite of her antipathy, so she and hers may speak more openly after some time._ "You have my gratitude."

"We are not Cardassians to ignore another's need." When Sanye returned with the articles, Melset felt disgust … to look like one of them….. But the warmth of the clothing admittedly was pleasant.

At hearing a call from outside, Sanye left, only to return after a quick exchange, "A friend saw you on Terok’Nor, under guard, manacled, yet you were kind to one of our children in spite of your own situation and were further abused for it."

As expected, the Bajora had established a network of information that was every bit as efficient as her own people's, registering even minor details even though they had no elaborate communications devices at their disposal. The challenge was using her knowledge of Bajoran mentality. Compassion had already worked in her favour, yet having to imitate their emotional responses was humiliating. _Entek would enjoy this_. It was worth it though; if she was successful the reward would be the transferral to the Order she wanted.

Sanye brought in a low table, placed bowls of vegetables and fruit on it, then, wordlessly, shared the food with the Cardassian who, she noticed, imitated her gestures. At one point, she looked at a fruit carefully before tasting it.

“It won’t harm you,”

“No, but…” Melset turned it over and over, puzzled, “We have this kind on our world too, have been growing it since the beginning. The same fruit on two worlds so far apart?”

“Simple enough to answer,” Sanye replied, “The Prophets wanted us to share some of the good they made.”

The next day, much to her relief, the drug had nearly worn off._ Finally!_ Melset stretched, then got to her feet. At once, a Bajoran male, Kendro, came in, phaser at the ready and held up his weapon in a threat. "Listen to me carefully, viper: One wrong move, or if you try to escape, one Cardassian less won't matter to us. There are plenty more."

Malja came in at hearing the threat and, at seeing the Cardassian nearly recovered, said sarcastically, "Now that you are over the worst, you can watch how your inferiors live; that should keep you amused for days on end. Backward, superstitious primitives whose rituals and customs are only fit to be destroyed make for fine watching. Only a vole fight is better." Her erstwhile kindness had been replaced by intensive hatred.

Melset did not react to the hatred, "You were generous and took me in in spite of what I am, tended to my injuries, now even share the little you have instead of killing me outright as my superiors expected; you have given me this clothing which is a disguise of sorts." She added, “You have helped me, and I am indebted to you for this help.”

Her gratitude took Malja by surprise. "There may be something you can do that will not compromise our safety, but I repeat Kendro’s warning: try to escape and you will pay at once."

“As I am a condemned traitor I would be shot on sight were I to reach a Cardassian outpost." _This is what we do, so they know procedure anyway. But they are surprisingly well-organized and, in spite of their backwardness, no fools._ For a moment she hoped the cover was good enough. Yet, Dr Nyson's work was convincing; as much as these people despised Cardassians, they had been horrified at her condition. It would take at least a week for the more impressive bruises to fade along with the residual weakness.

Outside, Yokim waved Yano over. “I have a long-term task for you: make contact with her, pretend interest, speak to that one, after a time, tell her about the way we live, what is being done to our people, and watch her reactions very carefully; you will find a way.”

Yano nodded in agreement, even though he resented having to associate with a Cardassian.

_They seem to want information_ was her thought some days later, when Yano came over to her and asked, "Did they really do this to you because of your suggestion?" She noticed that his voice hinted at curiosity, not suspicion; this was new.

"Yes. The principle of interrogation is that extreme pain and abuse reveal the truth. We are trained to be very resistant to both, so when one of us breaks, nothing is hidden anymore." In a low voice, she added, "My interrogator did not accept that my suggestion was meant to strengthen, not to harm Cardassia. Thus my sentence."

He looked at her, then turned to leave. How to do what Yokim and the others want? _The very idea of associating with a Cardassian is revolting, and not only because of the way they look; it seems as though I agreed with what they are doing… But if what she has told us so far is true_?

About a week later, Malja accompanied her into the main room of the house; it was the first time she had left the small room in which she was held. Melset quickly looked around: it was spacious, with hand-carved furniture, a fireplace in the back, utensils for cooking and farming arranged along the walls; everything was simple, yet made for a welcoming atmosphere of comfort and security, underlined by the smell of wood, earth and herbs. The others were already there and stared at the Cardassian with suspicion and loathing, then distrust when they saw her glance around the room.

"Sit here, with Yokim and myself," Malja placed a bowl in front of her, explaining, "Join us, as is custom." After thanking the Prophets, they shared the meal in silence. There was no conversation, as they did not trust her to any degree.

Little later, Yano called out, "Try this fruit, it cannot possibly be harmful to one of your sort." He had cut its shell at seeing she still had problems using her right hand after their medic had cut out the transponder.

Malja passed it to her.

"Very hard to poison a viper."

The reaction was suppressed amusement, then renewed silence.

Yano, who had offered her the fruit, looked over at her repeatedly; she did not know why, nor could she read his expression. As she knew was their custom, she avoided his glance only wondering whether he was the operative, but his manner would certainly be different, not show a mixture of both curiosity and revulsion.

Yokim explained, "We destroyed your uniform; if the remains of the thing are scanned for DNA, they will think you were killed. There was enough of your blood on it. Moreover, any Bajoran with Cardassian objects is a suspect and can be sure he will be arrested and disappear."

"I understand, it is safer as we have transponders in the armour. I had to put my uniform on again after interrogation to make my loss of status visible to all who saw me.” She looked away, saying, "My suggestion was not treasonous; I presented the alternatives."

"It was, according to your people’s ideas. Speaking for us or trying to offer help is a crime; some months ago we were told that a Ferengi was nearly executed because he had tried to sell us food."

After the meal, Sanye took her back to her room, but noticed her look towards the open space in front of the buildings before she was imprisoned again. _Confinement must be as difficult for her as it would be for one of our own people_. She shook her head at the Cardassian’s unasked question, "Too much of a risk."

“I know. Perhaps they are checking whether I am still alive after all; then we would all pay, and especially you should not.” _Concern for their fate, understanding should make a difference after a time_.

Yano briefly met the Cardassian's glance before she was accompanied back into the room and locked in.

At returning, Sanye switched to the local dialect when she told Yano, “There are things that must under no circumstances be seen, especially not by her. Her kind are trained observers, there is not much you can get past them, and they remember the smallest details. That makes her so dangerous.”

Now that their captive had recovered from her injuries and could move around normally again, he repeatedly noticed her at the window, watching the villagers go about their work. Her expression did not hint at either contempt or amusement, but rather at interest and curiosity, as if she were trying to understand their ways.

Malja said, not unkindly, "We cannot risk making the error of underestimating that one. She was a Gul with all that implies, their militaries are fanatically patriotic, treacherous; she certainly did not reach that rank without being vicious and brutal, though she looks harmless at first sight. Everyone knows her people can be trusted to be untrustworthy. She was left to us for some reason; I am not quite willing to believe her story, at least not yet. It is to you to find out more."

A few days later, a newcomer who looked slightly familiar arrived. He saw the incident with that child! Hoping to learn more, she pressed herself against the wall to the adjoining room. She heard the murmur of voices, but the words were too muffled. Shortly after, he came in with Yokim, stared at her, "Yes, that's the Cardassian I saw. He grinned broadly, "Not very impressive out of uniform, is she?"

He addressed her in the language she knew, "Why that sentence?"

"Suggested change in policies. We need reliable allies; the determination with which Bajorans resist us after decades of occupation gave me the impression that you would be as reliable as allies as you now are as enemies." She explained, "I never was on Bajor, only on Border Patrol and spent some hours on Terok Nor two or three years ago to pick up personnel."

"Exactly what our contacts reported," Sarun said, watching her carefully and using the dialect he had been directed to take. "What will you do now?"

"I cannot go to a Cardassian outpost; I want to live." She pretended to consider the situation, then, taking care to sound apprehensive and even pleading, "My life is in your hands as you let me live, and I will try to protect you as you have me, should it become necessary."

He turned away wordlessly, still very suspicious; the two men went out, locking the door to the room. Before leaving, he told the others, "Keep her confined, but in about a week, forget to secure the door and see what happens. We will be waiting to see what happens." He added, “Hobble her; if she frees herself and runs for the hills, we’ll know her story is a lie and get rid of that snake. Come to think of it, the field behind the copse could use extra nutrients,” Sarun explained with a broad grin.

“Do really want to risk poisoning that field?” Kendro answered, laughing. “Come to think of it, in Coleto Village, the experiment did work out as hoped. Excellent crops…”

The test came even sooner than expected. Melset waited, pretending to be uncertain, before pushing the door open. It almost certainly was a trap, no sign of forgetfulness, so walking out slowly, looking around, she first settled where she could enjoy the warmth; no one was around, not even the children. At seeing a pile of grain, she remembered Evren saying it was seed grain to be spread out for drying later on. _Better seem interested in helping and integrating to validate the entire premise._ Melset suddenly remembered that, in her childhood, she had seen this very same kind of grain on her home world, in Kelan Province, one of the most fertile areas on Cardassia Prime. _The Order has implanted a false memory in my mind as well as what must be done; this can help me convince them of my sincerity by beginning this work for them_…

Unrolling two large canvases, she distributed part of it in a thin, even layer then enjoyed the warmth again. While waiting, she found herself wondering about the peculiar pattern of woodwork in the windows, the symbols on the doors of the houses. They clearly are an expression of these people's superstitions; if I find the right approach, I may be able to get useful information; superstition has been useful more often. While planning more ways of manipulating circumstances in her favour, she took care to glance up at the sky every now and then, as if fearing Cardassian surveillance in case she was being observed by the villagers.

When the others returned their reaction was as expected, surprise, then a discussion followed by a search until Yokim found her dozing in the heat. For a moment he stared at her in disbelief, having expected her to try to escape … straight into the hands of the cell. "You are still here," then harshly, suspiciously, pointing at the grain, "You understand us very well, don't you? I wonder what else you can understand." He went over to her, distrustful, prepared to follow through the initial suggestion made by the others.

She looked up at him and slowly got to her feet. "Please, standard. I cannot understand you."

Again the switch, "Why?"

"We have crops like this in my home province, but dry them mechanically. The door was open, so I wanted to help, repay you; I heard about the old way of drying that grain when I was a child."

"If you had tried to run....," he pulled a phaser out of his pocket and he saw him adjust it to 'stun'. "May as well free you. Sit down."

She watched him cut the rope from her ankles, then bent over to rub them; the fine edges of some of the scales had been worn down.

Yokim watched her, lost in thought, and, after a few moments, asked, "Why are you here? You are not like the Cardassians we know. We once saw a captive; he was defiant, arrogant and vicious to the end, with only contempt for us. 'Bajoran filth' was the mildest insult he used. We never could understand why your people have only contempt for us and consider us inferior, little more than animals, killing and torturing us without compunction." This time his voice was without anger or hate as he considered her. "Normally, anyone your people considers a traitor is executed, publicly. You said so yourself."

"I did not share this opinion about you or agree with the methods used against your people, spoke for an alliance; so it was thought fitting to have me executed by those for whom I had spoken." Melset added in a low voice, “Killing Cardassians is becoming a sport, thus my sentence was to be carried out by Bajorans.”

"It is remarkable that we have seen no patrols lately," he stated, not reacting to what she had just said, "Should we feel confident and talk too freely among ourselves? You would be in the best position to spy on us and pass on the information."

"Normally, it is suicide for one of us to go out alone on Bajor; I have been here for four weeks and am still alive. Even if I went to a base to tell my compatriots what I know, I would have no chance of doing so. I would be shot on sight as a traitor." What is he trying to find out? I answered that more than once.

She heard voices but did not react, disguised the fact she could hear them. A group of Bajorans who were carrying various items had arrived, all of them with Cardassian weapons and communicators as well as tools that could only have been liberated during an attack. Yokim made a hand signal behind his back to caution the newcomers they should be silent and get out of sight.

She pretended to have noticed nothing unusual, but committed the individuals to memory as well as the objects she had just seen. _That’s why he is talking to me…. To draw my attention away from chance observations_.

He turned to her, "They are back from the fields they were guarding. We have to see which crops can be harvested tonight, unless your friends plan to burn or poison them first. We lose entire harvests to your attacks unless we are lucky and are quicker. Go back inside."

_Interesting crops indeed_. Back inside, Melset heard the door being locked, but knew she was very slowly making some headway. They partially believed the story, but were still suspicious and on guard. _I somehow have to gain their trust, and soon. I need names and places. The details Entek gave me should be important to them, but not to us; all of the bases on the list are slated for closure before new ones are established; crucial installations have already been moved_. She settled down to record the few details she had gathered.

It was two weeks later, just before dark, when Malja came to accompany her into the house for the last meal of the day. Even though Melset was no longer confined to the room she had been given, she took care to avoid arousing suspicion by staying with the members of the Arna family, and immediately seeking cover whenever a shuttle passed overhead. There were more people here this time, among them two she did not know. One, a young woman with wavy auburn hair, who was addressed as Alosa, nearly jumped up in anger at seeing the Cardassian, while Rendon gave her a hate-filled glare.

“She’s still alive! And being treated like a guest," he commented, “That viper is collecting information to be shared with the others. Are you that naïve to think she is grateful?”

“And share the little we have. Have you forgotten her kind is starving us or working prisoners to death in labour camps, or in the ore-processing centre on Terok Nor?" Alosa remained stubbornly silent for the rest of the meal; there were codes of hospitality that were respected, but after the thanksgiving ritual she disgustedly eyed Yano who smiled at Melset and offered, "I'll explain this custom to you later."

_Like a human, trying to protect even one of us, and only because it seems I was mistreated for my goodwill towards them!_ "I would appreciate that," she replied in a low voice.

Yokim replied, "Alosa and Rendon, I'll tell you about everything later, but she's not exactly a captive anymore. We have been watching her very carefully. This one does not enter any area without being invited, spends hours watching us at our work, asking about the techniques used, and even works together with us when we need extra hands. She is highly educated, as are all of her people, clever at technical work, but is interested in all aspects of our lives, especially our handicrafts."

He remembered an incident and said, "She did not even react to some very offensive epithets one of our children shouted at her, only turned away and left. When I sent Andyra over to apologize, he got the reply, "It is forgotten. How else can you react? We have done too much to you."

Rendon made a sound of derision at the back of his throat, "Sure, that one is interested in everything, is tolerant. Her sort gather as much information as possible, then use it to find where best to strike to do the greatest amount of damage. Perhaps they want to take our craftsmen to work on their worlds, freeing their men and women to attack even more planets and enslave their inhabitants."

Melset pretended not to have understood the conversation, only glanced over at Yokim and Rendon once. At the end of the meal, when Malja got up to take away the dishes, she made eye contact, and rose, "I can help," indicating the removal of the rope.

There was a brief but suppressed argument, until Yokim told them about the experiment and that she had not attempted to escape, but had taken over some work that had been, of necessity, delayed. The reaction of the newcomers was disbelief and increased suspicion.

Rendon suggested, "A new ploy. Look at her: not much taller than our own women, harmless-looking without that uniform, thus ideal to leave here as an unfortunate victim, and you fall for it! There have been variants on that method."

In the course of the conversation which was led in one of their local dialects, Melset heard the Bajorans repeat the name of a weapons depot once or twice. It was difficult to understand exactly what they were saying as they spoke very quickly, slurring some words, abbreviating others, laughing; an uninformed listener would hardly have suspected they were discussing a raid as their discussion seemed to involve crops, as well as reusing fields that had lain fallow for the necessary number of years.

_This is the opening I need! Entek listed the place that is repeatedly being mentioned as one on which I can reveal data_. She turned to them with a low cry of distress, repeating the name, then reverted to Cardassian.

Immediately Yokim, enraged, made suspicious by Rendon's words, rushed over and pinned her against the wall, "You have been sent to spy on us!" He turned to his friends, "Faisol and Caron, get rid of her immediately!"

_Have to make it appear I am so concerned I haven't understood his order_. "No! Not to that base! It is a trap! They are waiting for you there! It is the truth!" She turned to grip Yokim's arms to emphasize the warning, still speaking in her own language, voice rising, eyes wide with fear.

Rendon and Yokim pulled her arms behind her back to tie her up, Rendon cursing at the two males who had taken this Cardassian into the village instead of vaporizing her at once. "They are all the same, you should know that by now, after all that has happened. At least you have finally come to your senses! Pity for her kind! Who knows how much damage has already been done! She is in the best place you could imagine, watching, listening, and remembering everything, each single word and gesture. What she knows will be used against us; no doubt she’s already looking forward to being awarded a nice, shiny medal for doing her share to destroy us."

Incredulous, Alosa stared at the scene, not quite believing what she had heard Melset say. After some moments, she called out: "Rendon and Yokim, stop. I want to hear that again."

"What she said was enough. I don't need a repeat. That viper understands us, no matter which dialect we speak!" He clenched a hand into one of the Cardassian's neck membranes. Melset gave a protracted hiss of pain but remained passive, did not defend herself.

"I wonder how it would be to strip off one scale after the other," he said quietly. “Those bastards are every bit as repulsive as they are evil.”

Alosa gestured at Rendon. "Let her go. She only understands the standard language. Anyone would have recognized that place name. Her reaction did not look as though she was anxious to have us run into a trap."

Rendon complied grudgingly, saying, "How can you let yourself be tricked like that! Remember what those bastards did to your brother. They don't just leave one of theirs lying somewhere to be found! She was left here with a purpose. They were counting on having her taken in because they know our precepts of charity and compassion. Recall how they questioned Ranit, forcing his wife to watch him being tortured until he died, laughing about her pleading, sneering about his weakness, as they called it!" Turning to the others, he muttered, "I can't believe you let this thing live so long!" He slapped the Cardassian as hard as he could, provoking another hiss. "Even sounds like a viper." Overcome with hate, he kicked her; Melset twisted loose, pressed her back against the wall, instinctively prepared to defend herself.

This time Malja called out, "Rendon, will you stop! If she is trying to trap us, she's all yours, but this is enough! Are we already becoming like them? We are Bajorans and not brutes like the occupiers of our world! You saw her when she was found."

Rendon moved away so that she was out of his reach, but his expression showed he was angry at being kept from getting his hands on the Cardassian, "The worst you can do to them is not bad enough; believe me, she would not have lived to see this day had I been the one to find her." He addressed Melset, "We have learned from you, and I'm looking forward to showing you we have learned our lessons well."

Melset did not reply, only stared up at him in silence.

Alosa went over to her, saying, "Repeat what you said, Cardassian, but in our language."

Melset did not answer, only watched the others warily, as if expecting the worst.

“I said to repeat what you just said, Cardássian. We’re waiting.”

She still kept watching Rendon who was still eyeing her, just waiting for her to make the slightest wrong move.

"You have experienced enough abuse at your own people’s hands,” Alosa continued, ”You have that in common with Rendon who has reason enough to hate spoonheads; he's lost nearly his entire family to your forces."

At Melset’s startled glance, she explained, "Our epithet for you in exchange for your insults."

What Melset had just learned was not totally unexpected. _These ones have enough knowledge of Cardassi to both understand and use it well enough; I have to be careful, especially when the operative gets here. Yet, I already have the names of a number of their contacts as well as of some few of their bases. Are these people so naive or only incautious?_

Speaking rapidly in a mixture of both languages as if too agitated to remember all the Bajoran she knew, she said, "Listen. Not there. I remember the plan, participated in making it but thought it was to be executed on another world. It is a trap. The depot was closed and the equipment transferred well before I was sentenced. You will be ambushed and eliminated, your village razed, and..." she abruptly fell silent, eyes wide.

The group was now staring at her disbelievingly, even Rendon. Usso Yano went over to him, seemingly to explain something; she watched the gestures the two men used; they were interesting, conveying meanings which at times, could be radically different from the implications of the words themselves, nearly like the system she had used while still on active duty. _They are taking the bait. Now to realize what I have done_...

Her eyes widened in horrified disbelief. Misreading the woman’s reaction, Sanye went to her, saying, "We have to be cautious. All of us are in constant danger so that we cannot take any chances, and even fear Bajorans we do not know as they could be operatives. Before your people came, we weren't like this; we were isolated, but strangers or someone in need could always count on help as we lived according to the rules of the Prophets." As they went out, she added, "If what you have said is true, you have repaid us far more than you realize."

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely audible.

"Come, Iníki, let's go back. I assure you, we will not harm you, not now, not after your warning."

Once in her room, Melset slowly sat down on the paillasse, in total despair. "Now I really am a traitor. That is what they had planned all along and why they gave me that drug. If I am retaken now, even my family will be made to feel the disgrace."

"They left you here to die, and you call yourself a traitor?" was the Bajoran's reaction. “You said the drug makes you react differently; it can be proven that you were given it!”

“No. It breaks down completely after taking effect. It leaves no marker behind, neither in blood nor tissue nor metabolites. Only the effects remain. That is the purpose…” She leaned back, resigned. “In my case, it was make your own traitor. My suggestion only laid the basis of the plan.”

“Then what just happened is not your fault, you are not guilty.”

"Varun Sanye, you don't understand. Duty, family and Cardassia are everything for us. My suggestion already was a court-martial offence even though I only wanted to further Cardassia’s interests, but this ...," she turned her face to the wall, “is worse than everything else. I have betrayed my people.”

Sanye replied, trying to understand her mentality. "I can't help you resolve that conflict. But the loss of our fighters would have meant the loss of your own life." When there was no reply, she said in a gentle tone of voice, "I have to speak to the others; it seems you really cannot go back, not the way your sentence was carried out."

The woman left; once alone, Melset cautiously looked up, watching for any movement in the window which could have meant covert observation. _Nothing. How little these people know. This may be an opening. Sanye seems to be convinced of my sincerity and may well influence the others, perhaps even Rendon_. _My error is unthinkable, as is my reaction, or the wish to return a favour to inferiors. And they don’t even realize it. I'll be taking up weapons myself, if it goes on like this! Hopefully the operative will arrive soon._

She already had collected a good amount of information to pass on, far more than she had hoped for. These first two months had been unexpectedly productive, even though it was a strain to adapt to her captors' ways, to pretend thankfulness, try to offer them something in exchange for their help.

Melset had never had direct contact with Bajorans, had only heard in reports or from her peers that they were a weak, inferior people caught up in backward superstitions who needed to be brought up to her own people's level, yet who refused to give up their culture, persisted in fighting back. Their appearance and behaviour, furtive, wary, potentially aggressive, as she had seen them on Terok Nor during the Reymac incident had underlined this impression.

_Circumstances, both negative and positive, influence the behaviour, reactions and every aspect of an individual’s being._ She remembered having read this phrase on a Federation data rod and felt a brief chill of apprehension. _Our own belief in our superiority, our…_. She immediately suppressed what she was beginning to realize, but remembered something that had disturbed her: _The captives we took on Jeraddo_….

Prolonged contact was revealing entirely different aspects of this people, aspects which were concealed by the propaganda whose aim was to make Bajorans appear subcardassian in every way and thus justify the atrocious conditions under which their Cardassian oppressors forced them to work and live.

During the following weeks, she noticed the Bajoran who had spoken for her began finding excuses to walk by, often making the most outrageous comments about her people, which she repaid in kind. She was surprised at his reaction to her retorts, laughter or a broad grin. A few weeks after her arrival, he was waiting for her when she came out of the room, "You are free to move around now," was his comment. He did not go away.

Not knowing what he meant, she looked over at one of the houses and replied, "Within limits, of course."

"How are your homes?" was his query.

_No harm in giving a description_. He listened carefully as she described the arrangements and the typical layout.

After she had finished, he explained, "Ours are built in accordance with our beliefs. The patterns of our windows and the inlays in the doors are meant to reflect the gates of the Celestial Temple, as revealed to our Vedeks. The central room with the fireplace is a symbol of our unity as children of the Prophets. We always share our meals; you have noticed our ritual before eating? We thank the Prophets for what we have, even if it is but little. Everything we do, we do in their honour. The occupying forces laugh about our beliefs, our customs, but we have been sent objects; some of us, and not only members of the religious caste, have had visions."

"I have heard of artefacts that have been removed from Bajor, from your shrines," was her nearly inaudible comment.

His face became grim, "Yes, your forces plunder and destroy shrines, have taken orbs, our holiest objects, sent to us by the Prophets, and are examining them in labs to see if they can be useful as a source of power; no doubt those they have stolen have already been destroyed," his anger and bitterness were obvious. I wonder; is she really interested, or only trying to find a weakness? At meeting her eyes, he noticed there was no mockery in her expression. "We have done nothing to provoke all of this, and yet what your forces are doing to us is atrocious beyond belief: torture, senseless killings, as if we were vermin."

_This really is a regrettable course of action; this terror a serious mistake. A treaty with Bajor would have helped us far more than this._ Only two weeks ago, there had been panic in the village because Cardassian shuttles had repeatedly flown over the area in formation. After they had departed, the villagers had run to their fields, fearing the crops had been poisoned. To everyone’s relief, that had not been the case and, as they were nearly ripe anyway, the villagers had immediately started the harvest.

“What are you thinking about?”

“The Cardassian vessels flying over the area; the fear of fields being burned or poisoned….” She asked, “How do the people cope with that? How ensure your subsistence?”

“All of the villages in the general area who have no losses share what they have with the victims, keep them from the worst effects of starvation.” He added, “One of our rules is to share with the less fortunate. Who doesn’t is not …” He fell silent, once again wary. He looked at her again, "I know you spoke for us; at least that is what you said. Why was that such a serious offence?"

"Any dissent is considered treasonous. Yet, I did suggest alternatives to preclude any loss of the resources we need. Our rules, however, are merciless; we are raised to unquestioning obedience."

"So far, none of you has ever wanted to hear about our ways. Our culture is only a source of derision, of mockery. I'll explain it to you, if you want," he looked at her with an indefinable expression.

"Why do you all wear this?" She touched the chain of the earring he was wearing. Make him believe I am afraid of causing offence.

"They show we are one people. We believe the pagh can be sensed in its true form by a Vedek when he grasps your ear."

With that he began explaining details of their ways; and, noticing her interest, made it a habit. She however took care not to show that she considered listening to his accounts a waste of time; who would want to learn about these people's ways? Her own culture was inherently superior, making it unthinkable to respect the Bajorans’ ways. At the same time, she well knew that each small fact could be put to good use under the right circumstances. _This development may be exceedingly useful. He seems to trust me, believe the scenario, and wants to help me integrate_. Repeatedly, though, the words she had read surfaced in her mind, the realization…

It was nearly eight weeks later that she was awakened by voices raised in argument, recognized those of the villagers she knew, but there were two which she had not heard before. The door to her room slammed open as two Bajoran males came in to pull her to her feet. When she tried to struggle out of their hands, calling out, "What is the reason for this?" her captors struck then blindfolded her, tied her wrists together.

"Is this really necessary, Denor? She did warn us about that camp," this from Yokim.

"She's a Cardássian. Isn't that enough? If there is nothing to worry about, you will get your pet one back unharmed if you still want it." With that she was taken outside and pushed into a craft, extremely small, as far as she could feel, and tied to one of the seats.

After a short flight, she was untied, then prodded to indicate she was to get out. Guided by one of her captors, Melset felt they were walking over smooth ground before entering a cavern. Some more meters, then the blindfold was removed. A tall Bajoran stood facing her, his eyes reflecting hatred and contempt. She looked at him neutrally, evaluating the man. Was he the contact she had been told to expect?

"How did you get here?"

"I was left behind by the Order, after having made the error of suggesting different policies towards Bajor." _Always the same questions_...

"Very likely. You always execute traitors. To leave one of you to us would mean the danger of having valuable information passed on in revenge or gratitude, if permitted to survive."

"We would never betray our Union, no matter what the encouragement. To make the sentence more unpleasant, my mind was manipulated to erase critical knowledge and make me react differently."

"Like a weak, inferior Bajoran," came the derisive reply.

"No. Like one of us without the discipline and training. And the worst thing is that I am fully conscious of what has been done to me, yet am unable to change the way I react or remember what I once knew."

Her interrogator quickly reached out to grasp her braids, forcing her head back. "Very considerate of them; it will make it easier to extract the information you still do have." He let go, then tripped her up and crouched next to her, his forearm across her throat, ready to exert pressure. “If you try to fight back,” he increased the pressure marginally, “you will have cause to regret it. But not for long, I promise you.”

“That is most considerate.” She looked up and met his glance, held it. _How to know whether he is the operative I was told to expect or a member of the résistance? To make an error will cost me my life and, even worse, the information for the Order will be lost_.

He lifted his free hand and told his comrades who were watching with an anticipatory gleam in their eyes, "Leave us. You had the collaborator, I get this one and her information."

As soon as they were alone, he straightened, checked to see whether they were really alone and said in a barely audible voice, "Code 2376 black."

Melset did not react. It would have been too easy to get it from another source.

"Gul Torel commands the Orissa and your brother, Åvron Damar, Glinn second level, due to marry Tymaris Dánan, is currently serving there. Entek attended your briefing for this project for which you volunteered and he vouched for your abilities; you will become an operative if successful." Some more details only known to those concerned had her relax slightly, waiting for what would follow.

"We will not be observed and there are no listeners either, so can speak with only minor precautions. My friends think we have begun the interrogation. They are disappointed to have been sent away, but," he shrugged, "It cannot be helped. At least we need not imitate the sound-effects of such a procedure as it is well known that we are trained to cope with even severest pain."

"It is hard enough to constantly adapt to Bajoran ways, but I knew what to expect; it is all my duty to Cardassia, whatever the cost."

"Indeed. What do you have?" He held out a padd.

Holding it over the subdermal transponder behind her ear, she transferred a report on all local activities, complete with places and names, plans that were currently being made. "This is all."

Her interrogator gave a satisfied nod, and took his padd back, "A good amount. Garak suggested the right person for this. Well done." He gave her a narrow belt which she concealed under her dress. "Bugs. Two miniaturized datapadds. Any requests?"

"Yes. Do not capture any of my Bajorans, at least not yet, or they will connect my abduction with your taking me to see why I am here. I can find out much more now as they have accepted the cover and I have seemingly been adapting. Within another six months I will have found out enough for us to eliminate the résistance in this province and possibly weaken it in neighbouring ones as well." She added after some moments, "They have liberated Cardassian communicators in the course of their attacks, so I will see to preparing one to produce this signal," she selected a frequency outside the usual range. "This will show you where I am." An amused laugh before she continued, "After all, I was left to their tender mercies, and am so very grateful for help, shelter and kindness that I want to repay it all by joining them in their work on the land and effecting repairs..."

"That can be arranged. Be assured there will be no questions about your return. We wanted to find out whether there was more to the affair, but you did not lie." He looked at her, grinning, before adding, "None of us expected you to survive for even an hour in spite of the preparations."

"They served their purpose even better than expected. Those who found me were horrified about the extent of Cardassian brutality. However, I show no signs of interrogative procedures now. That could cause suspicion."

"Luckily for you, the Bajorans have not attained our level of interrogation, and you are only thankful to be alive. Isn't it fortunate that it is very cold in here, you are barefooted and have but light clothing not meant for this area?" Together, they went into another section of the cavern where there was a source of heat, to spend the next hours outlining further activities.

Before ending their session, Denor informed her about a disturbing incident, “There was a security breach, a conversation about your mission on Bajor within the hearing of some Bajorans but fortunately we could avert greater damage; when you return to Cardassia, the Order will present you with the details. We have found the source and taken appropriate measures. The danger has been removed. Permanently. Exposing a fellow agent’s mission merits summary execution.”

Melset stared at him, eyes slightly widened, neck membranes tensed.

“Rendon’s insisting on eliminating you even now is mainly due to this factor. He knew about your being found nearly as soon as it happened; it was only at their Vedek’s insistence that you were spared; he had gone to the Arnas and seen you. Luckily, you look slightly different because you are Kelani. He touched your right ear in that idiotic ritual they have.” He laughed derisively, “’Let her live and share our experiences with her kind in full.’ That’s what the shrinecrawler said. Well, you’re certainly doing a good job of learning what their plans are,” Denor added, “As to the leak, watch your back even more carefully and don’t slip up.”

The contact used the following hours to inform her of the developments of the past weeks and of further missions initiated by the Order, as well as details which could be useful in the course of her own work.

The next morning the shuttle returned and Melset got out with her erstwhile interrogator and two of his contacts. Sanye was the first to see them and came over. "I see you have brought her back. What have you found out? I can relay the message. The others are in the fields, preparing for the next crops."

"There is no subterfuge. We managed to access transmissions, and question some who have positions of trust on Terok Nor, thus could hear what was being discussed. Unlikely as it is, she has told the truth, and is not even thinking of escape. The worst thing they could have done to her was to make her react as we do while leaving her aware of the fact that these reactions would make her an object of derision were she among her own kind, and with the knowledge that important information was removed from her memory." He laughed, "I wish we knew the method to use it on our beloved Prefect!"

He waited for a moment, "I will return in a few weeks. Hopefully we can expand our cooperation as to farming. The Cardassians are destroying so much that we can hardly subsist on what we manage to save from burning or poisoning." With that he left and, before getting into the small craft, gave Sanye a friendly wave.

"I never thought I would say that, but I am glad we were not mistaken," she told Melset who briefly looked over at her without answering. The Cardassian slowly went into what had become her room to sit down, pulling the blanket tightly around herself, then leaned against the wall to curl up, trembling with cold, eyes closed. Sanye followed her in and offered, "You would be better off in the main room; it is warmer."

The only answer she got was a slight gesture of refusal. Shaking her head, Sanye decided to leave her to herself at seeing the woman’s attitude of exhaustion.

Some hours later, Sovel and Fyrna returned, obviously very pleased about the results of their group’s foray. "We barely escaped, but it was worth the risk. The depot has been destroyed, and the Prefect has a few soldiers and weapons less." They quickly hid some carefully-wrapped objects in a hollowed-out space in the floor, saying, "This equipment should come in useful. Just see your resident Cardassian notices nothing."

"If, she is out of luck."

In the meantime, the Cardassian under discussion was listening at the mud-brick wall into which she had inserted one of the highly miniaturized bugs the operative had given her. This variant was so sensitive that she could follow all conversations, even the most quiet. After distributing the rest of them, she would obtain far more information as the Bajorans were slightly less vigilant now that the operative had validated her cover; the final step was completed when she had calibrated the devices so that they automatically transmitted information to the pad buried in the corner of the room.

For her, the very idea of ceding to exhaustion when there were duties to complete was unthinkable, but she knew she had to exercise greatest caution and decided to change her routine, seemingly resting more during the day and far less at night. Much of the Bajorans’ planning was effected during the day, so they would feel less suspicious about her potentially spying on them if they looked in to see what she was doing and saw her resting or working on something or another. Taking out a small knife she quickly made space in a corner for the second of the two padds she had been given. This one’s frequency would show where she was, and preclude any mistakes during an attack; it was not unknown for agents to be killed along with the people they were observing.A few hours later, at seeing the two prepare to leave again, Malja, who had come over, said, "Give this to her," and held out a container. "She was questioned all night and only brought back this morning. I know Cardassians drink it as a stimulant."

Fyrna sniffed at the contents with a grimace of disgust, "Only fit for one of those."

When she went in with Sovel, she saw Melset, who had been given some simple tools some days before to help in repairs, was awake and fixing a diminutive object. Instead of hiding it, she resealed it and explained, "I found this communicator in the outside corner of the hall and have repaired it. If you could get another one, you could keep in contact more easily."

The two exchanged apprehensive glances. That miniaturized communicator had been taken in one of the last raids. Melset's expression was neutral when she held it out to them. S_he suspects nothing, doesn't she even recognize where it came from? What has been done to her mind?_

Fyrna put the container on the table, and commented, "...and your people can receive the transmission and home in on the user easily enough. Wouldn't you like that, Cardassian?"

"No. I have programmed it to the frequencies you use." She thought briefly, "Did you keep any of my equipment? It would come in useful for parts."

"When Arna and Sarun found you, you were in uniform, but stripped of weapons, your communicator, even your insignia. They left nothing we could have used."

The Cardassian shuddered, but not with cold, as though reacting to a recollection too disturbing to contemplate further, and, rallying, offered, "If you find another, I can prepare it for you as well."

Again a quick exchange of glances. The two Bajorans were relatively sure she was not trying to trick them, or else Denor would have eliminated her. Sovel placed the container on a table, "Here, your kind of stimulant."

She said, "This is kind of you," and drank some of it. After some moments she asked, concerned, "Where is Alosa anyway? She has been gone for weeks."

Sovel did not bother to hide his anger at telling her, "Back in her own village. You can imagine why she is staying there, can’t you? Your friends have been very active; nearly each house there has been damaged or destroyed.”

Melset averted her glance, "And I dared speak out against these methods," was her nearly inaudible reply.

Sovel and Fyrna left, not knowing what to say. It was inconceivable to them that this Cardassian was different, but seemingly she was. They noticed that even though she was no longer guarded as closely as before, she avoided going outside too much to keep from being registered by the occupants of a passing shuttle scanning the area, thus provoking a detailed sensor sweep. Often, she stayed active most of the night, ostensibly watching for any sign of an imminent attack while working at repairs; Cardassians had quite good night vision, so this change did not arouse any suspicions.

"How was she?"

"Fine, and very thankful for that vile brew. She was awake and working on this communicator which she gave to me, said it could be used again. We'll have to be far more careful, Denor lost it when he removed her. What I cannot understand is that she did not recognize it."

"She was subjected to mental processing to keep important information safe from us. She knows enough to effect repairs, remembers everything else, but any knowledge that could be used against the Forces has been erased from her mind."

Yano came in and stared at the object on the table, "Where was it?"

"Melset found it outside her room, and set about repairing the damage. Her kind seemingly cannot live without working at something. Well, we can take advantage of her abilities; after all, her kind trades favours, and letting her live certainly passes as one."

He went over to slowly open the door and saw her look up then smile at seeing him._ Strange. Even her reptilian appearance is no longer so disturbing. She is a representative of the enemy, and yet.._. He remembered the Texts, the Verses of Life and Creation, which stated that the Prophets had created various peoples, all diverse within themselves. "I am going to look at one of the fields, check whether irrigation is necessary. You can help me," he offered.

She looked out, "There has been more activity in the past few days. I fear it may be too much of a risk for me to go out. With your clothing I may resemble one of you, but a scan would reveal me for what I really am, and endanger you and your fellows."

She went to the door and remained there for some minutes, taking in the view. Even though land was only seen as something to be exploited for its resources, she, as other Cardassians, was not blind to beauty, could appreciate that of Bajor. This area was forested, green and fertile, the river free to meander as it wanted in its broad valley; there was not the slightest sign of overexploitation as was the case with land on her own world. Here, the fields were relatively small, not the large monocultures she knew. "How have you managed to keep everything so untouched for millennia?"

"We only take what we need, not more, and we have never waged any wars with neighbouring planets or systems. Peaceful contact as prescribed by our beliefs is what we have always wanted, what we wanted with your people, too, when they first landed on our world." He added, “When they first arrived, they said this was what they wanted. But it did not take long for your people to show that they only were interested in exploiting our world and us as well as destroying our way of life.”

"We were forced to use our resources to the very limits; millennia ago, our own culture was very spiritual, with elaborate art and architecture, but after long periods of starvation and need, we had to turn to exploitation of other worlds for our subsistence, and this meant taking them over, either forging alliances or, if there was resistance, eliminating it. This has become a pattern of action for us so that anyone questioning it is considered a traitor who is trying to weaken Cardassia, especially as our people needs the resources."

"And you questioned that idea, and were judged a traitor." He quoted a phrase that was all too well-known, "And, for a traitor, the sentence is always the same."

She nodded once, her eyes avoiding his, then said, "But their plan did not quite work out. For now, I am still alive."

He did not reply, thinking, _Provided your people do not retake you._ He was shocked at his own thoughts. _This is a Cardassian!_ He looked over at her again, then showed her more details of the area.

Sanye, preparing some herbs for storage, watched them. _It had to come to this. Yano seems to like her even though it is his task only to make contact with her for the purpose of finding out some details. She does seem open-minded, interested in our ways, respects them but I cannot bring myself to fully trust her. However, for some time already, that one has been adapting, as if she had no hope of ever returning to her own. However, Cardassians never do anything without its being part of a plan; it is unusual that no one ever checked to see what happened to her. Even if we had killed this one, there would have been the possibility of finding out her fate_.

Roughly two months later, the pattern of attack and counterattack increased, Cardassian attacks became more and more destructive; at times, Melset offered some helpful details. As a result of her advice, she was no longer watched so carefully, and often enough heard names or places worth recording. The last conflict saw the loss of one fighter, but in spite of the villagers’ anger, she was not harmed. During a planning session, Leshik Vidol said, "I'll see whether I can find out more." He went over to try and pressure Melset to give more information. He came in to find her sleeping, curled up against the wall and noticed that she now wore her hair Bajoran style. _Never thought we'd have one of those here_.

Suddenly, there was a cry of warning from outside, "Search party on the way! We leave at once!"

His curiosity turned to anger, and he kicked Melset as hard as he could. At her jumping up, startled and resentful, he shouted, "Get moving, Cardassian. Your friends are coming for a visit, we leave within minutes, unless you want to stay behind to welcome them."

Without a word, she rushed into the main room where the others were hiding as many of their goods and supplies as they could.

"Give me that communicator!" Wordlessly, Yokim handed it over and she set to work at making a minor adjustment. "This should protect you by masking the signals of the communications devices you have. Here." She tossed it back to him and went to join the others in the supply room before they all left, carrying some few necessities.

To her surprise, their goal was a nearby area scattered with boulders; together, the Bajorans removed one of the largest which lay in front of the limestone cliff, revealing a veritable warren of passages, most of them natural, but many added or enlarged in the course of the past decades, nearly a village within the rock. _No wonder it is so difficult to find their résistance. Those rocks must have natural radiation that makes them difficult to penetrate by sensors_.

Melset looked back to see a couple with their children and ran towards them. _Show concern, no matter what the response; I can thus further work my way into their trust. He was one of the most vehement in demanding I be eliminated._ "Jinor Arkan, you and your wife have young children, and that load is slowing you down. We are trained to transport heavy equipment over long distances. That search party may be closer than expected, so you may be caught. I do not want you and yours harmed."

In spite of his surprise at hearing such words from a Cardassian, he reacted with an insult, but his wife, who often spent time with the Arnas, shook her head and spoke to him in a low voice, looking over at Melset who seemed worried about the family, walking alongside them as if offering protection, waiting. Another glance and he gave her some of his load, "Take this, Cardassian." Together they rushed into the shelter, resealed the entrance, and withdrew as far as possible.

In silence, the villagers waited for hours, listening, but no sounds could penetrate so far into the rock formation. Melset kept well apart from the others and, when they ate part of their supplies, Yokim went to her, "Come over to us, Iníki. We don't hold you responsible for the raid." He grew pale at seeing her holding a diminutive transmitter and called out, trying to get at the device, "You damn viper! Do you want to get us all killed?"

Melset held him off, "No! Not that! A scrambler to hide life-form readings, both yours and mine," she said in Cardassi. In his panic, he answered in the same language, "I can only hope so, for your sake." He sat down, an arm around her neck, holding a knife to her side. _He must be one of them, too. He knows exactly where to thrust that blade_. The others watched them uneasily. Hours later, Malja got up, "I'll check," and chose a passage to the back. Little later, she returned. "They seem to have left. All I can see is smoke, but no signs of shuttles, no movement."

Two others went to survey the area, and reported, "They are gone. Some of the houses are damaged, one destroyed. We'll return at dusk."

After removing all traces of their stay, the villagers set out in groups of two or three, Yokim and Vidol guarding Melset. At reaching the village, she saw the operative had kept his promise; no damage at all would have raised suspicions, but they had done just enough to make it credible. A phaser blast had torn a gaping hole into the wall where she had placed the data carrier with the latest details. Good. The plan has worked out perfectly. _They have picked up the information. There should be a padd somewhere in my room for next time_.

Immediately they set about making repairs. Their attitude towards Melset was hostile again. She accepted this, yet stayed close by, helping when her help was accepted, watching and listening. _I wonder that they don't suspect I have learned their dialect. That would be our first thought_. As it was, anger made for loose tongues, giving her more information than she had hoped to access in so short a time. After a matter of weeks, repairs were concluded.

In spite of the raid, Yano spoke to her, explaining more details about their buildings, the patterns and colours she had noticed in the windows and doors; initially, they had seemed strange, signs of superstition, not to be compared with the typical Cardassian style she knew: functional, spartan, but at the same time, a reflection of their striving for power. She considered the concept of a celestial temple primitive superstition, yet each explanation contained valuable information that would help in dealing with the Bajorans, and her interest had some of the others offer more details.

One afternoon, she joined Yokim and Sanye to inspect a field a little outside the village and caught sight of a heap of rocks which looked unusual; curious, she went over to it, crouched down to look at them more closely when she recognized that they had been worked, and picked up one of the stones. It still had some colour on it, some of the others showed signs of having been exposed to great heat.

“This is what is left of the shrine which our ancestors built hundreds of years ago. Your lot first took everything that was of value, then they destroyed it; only the charred wood and crushed rock you can see remain. We agreed to leave everything as it was, to remind us of what was and is still being done,” was Yokim’s account. “This has not happened to us alone, but all over Bajor. Our faith has helped us survive so far…” he fell silent._ In spite of her attitude, she cannot be trusted and may be looking for a way to destroy the little we still have left_.

Melset did not move for some moments, recalling a report about the destruction of a village and its inhabitants which she had once seen, remembered her carefully-hidden reaction of shock. She slowly got up after gently putting the stone back into place, stood there gazing at it and the ruins. She could not understand why she felt strangely uncomfortable, avoided Yokim’s glance. _There must be more to this than I remember_…

_May as well take another step which should offer me even more information; and if not, it should at least be interesting_…

Whenever the villagers were in their shrine, one of the outer chambers of the cave system which they seemingly used as a replacement for the one which had been destroyed, she made a habit of waiting at a short distance outside, as if trying to listen in, her attitude curious. After this had happened a few times, the prylar pointed her out to Serad.  
“Vedek Serad, there’s that Cardassian woman again, the one who has been taken in by the Arnas…. Why is she waiting there, and what does she want anyway?” Suspiciously, he said, “It seems she is watching us, is attracted by something or another. Everyone knows they are curious about everything; but it could be she is planning to notify her kind that we are actively practicing our worship of the Prophets.”

“How should she do so without risking her own life after her sentence?”

Serad looked over once, but did not react, only, after the service, slowly walked towards her, then stopped, met the woman’s eyes. _Her attitude is not contemptuous, is more curious than anything else._ “What are you doing here? Tell me, Cardassian. Do you wish to see and know what we are doing in our shrine?” _How to talk to one of those…._” He fell silent. His revulsion and terror whenever he saw Cardassians were too strong after his experiences with them during his time in a labour camp, the horrors of which he had barely survived.

Yokim went over to them, realizing that it was difficult for him. “The next time, Inìki will come with us. There should be no harm in letting her see.”

Serad again stared at the woman. _One of those. In a shrine_…. He forced himself to think of the Verses of Creation, but his recollections of the camp became all too vivid at seeing the Cardassian up close. When he had first seen her, helpless, unconscious, brutally mistreated, it had been far easier, he had felt pity, wanted her to live in spite of Rendon’s information, but now? The same person, mobile, active, facing him was quite a different matter. Her typical Cardassian patterns of moving and her voice made him remember the worst atrocities imaginable….

In the following weeks, Serad tried to overcome his reservations, slowly began telling her more, pleased at her wish to learn about their culture. That, along with her people’s ability to retain details easily, helped her gain marginal acceptance and, via him, that of the others. There was never any derision in her manner, only interest.

_Their distrust is strong, but easily overcome, provided they get the right cues. The weakness of a culture without constant observation, where people depend on each other for safety. We are only passably safe in the family as long as we comply with societal expectations_. For her, the mass of information she could now gather was far greater than she would ever have expected, especially the sermons she listened to were harmless when taken at face value, but from the first one on, she immediately recognized key words, phrasings that had meanings within meanings, revealing plans for attacks, or containing various code names of members of the résistance or where they were deployed, all of this very useful.

A month later, Sanye asked her, "You said your people repay help. We do need yours now to harvest our crops. They are good this year, and possibly abundant enough to get us all through the next seasons. It is around this time that the troops come to burn them or poison fields, so the sooner we get started and done, the better."

"What about the the others? For you, this is an experience closely linked to your beliefs, so there may be objections if a non-Bajoran, especially a Cardassian, participates. And, under circumstances, a sensor scan may reveal my presence, thus endanger you all." _Show concern, respect for their ways_… with unease, Melset noticed that the contempt she felt was no longer all that pronounced and even demanded a conscious effort. She was worried about the changes in her perception of Bajorans. _I hope the operative returns soon_.

"Not with that communicator you have realigned. It worked well when we were in hiding." Sanye met her glance openly, with no sign of distrust, only pleasure at her concern. "The others also are thankful for what you did. That cave system is invaluable to us, not only during raids."

_They really believe me! It was my personal signal, to keep me safe_. "Then I will come with you and am grateful for your trust." _May as well take this step too. They have given me so much information that my transferral to the Order is assured_.

To her surprise, Sanye told her, "You do belong to us now." She hesitated briefly, "I want to be open to you. Usso has suggested we take you into our family to give you a home and security in our group. He asked me to speak to you about it, as is our custom; react according to what is in your own pagh."

Melset did not reply or even react to this unexpected information. "I will come with you." With that she left to change into the work clothing she had made for herself, and joined the villagers, staying in the Arna family group; showing by this gesture that she agreed to the proposal.

Once again, she found herself working alongside Yano, noticing that the others were no longer so disapproving of her participating in these specific tasks. The villagers themselves seemed interested in helping her learn their ways, speaking to her as though there was no difference in species. From their gestures and manner, it seemed that she had finally realized her goal of gaining the Bajorans’ trust, yet was uneasy at the realization that the companionship was no longer utilitarian on her side. It was welcome as her people were highly gregarious, thus isolation hard to support.

It was much later than expected that the operative, Loris, returned to the village with some few members of the cell to help with their work. To go to him openly would have raised questions, so she waited patiently. Before the meal which they always shared as a group, Loris quickly hid a padd in her room. That same night, she completed the information she had acquired, and carried the padd clipped inside the loose bodice she wore. Before he left, he demanded to see her. Melset pretended to avoid him, but he quickly found her, backed her up against a wall, pretending to question her. She squirmed aside, as if trying to escape.

"Oh, no, you don't, you scaly brute. You stay right here. I want some more answers, and now!" He gripped her arm as if threatening her so that she could slip him the padd. He then whispered, "Excellent. Now listen carefully. Usso has spoken to Yokim. He is.... interested. Although his relatives are in one of the cells they no longer totally disapprove, as you allegedly have been abandoned here because of your suggestion, a little rumour that has been planted. This is a most fortuitous development." He added with contempt, "And you needn't worry about any consequences of enjoying your Bajoran while you are still here: the medical department has seen to that."

She barely avoided reacting to his remark; instead she concentrated on what Loris had told her about the Arna and Usso families. Her bewilderment at this information was not pretence when she went back to the others. _That is impossible; I am Kelani; it would be no better than had I accepted Meydar’s services_….

"You seem disturbed. Is there something I should know? I saw how he treated you."

She looked up and saw Usso Yano standing next to her, his expression concerned. "No. Loris does not trust me that is all. You cannot blame him, not after all that has been happening here." _So much was hidden from those who were not directly involved, we only heard about Bajoran terrorist activities, never what was being done. I may be touching dangerous ground and yet_…. “I was only on border patrol. Usso, I ask you: tell me everything; allusions are made, but I want to know; I have the feeling Vedek Serad has gone through much, so I do not want to ask him.”

"Let's go over to the shelter. You want the truth? You will have it." She inclined her head and followed him.

Out of earshot of the others, he told her about his own family's experiences with Cardassians, of the destruction of shrines, entire villages, the wanton cruelties, the conditions in the labour camps where fellow villagers had been worked to death and the unbelievable atrocities committed there which those who were lucky enough to survive had experienced, respectively seen. None of these conditions or actions of the Forces were justified by Cardassia’s need for resources, by the alleged primitiveness of the Bajora, their lack of fierceness. For all her experiences in combat, her dealings with non-Cardassians, the details of the treatment Bajorans were subjected to were disturbing. _Everything that is being done is cruelty for the sake of cruelty, inflicted by the forces because they have the power to do so, nothing else_. The thought was disturbing, revealing as it did an aspect of the Occupation that went against what she had been told about the actions of Central Command. Remembering the Bajorans on the Promenade, Melset looked away, distressed by what she was hearing. _It is no longer so difficult to pretend to these emotional responses. This population would have made good allies, and reliable ones, too, to judge by their absolute faithfulness to their people and their culture; how much different these villagers are to the Bajorans on the station._ …. She suppressed her reaction to the horrors Yano said these people were experiencing even now. _And they took me in_….

The next months went by uneventfully, but one evening, well after dark, Rendon who had been wounded in an attack came back with Alosa. Yokim quickly led them into the main room where his wife and sister immediately tended to Rendon's injuries. Alosa herself was unharmed, but speechless with shock. When Rendon caught sight of Melset sitting at the table, helping the two women arrange what would be needed, he said angrily, making sure she could hear every word, "They got part of that cell. Loris was killed together with four of his men, and those Cardassian butchers saw to it that they did not die quickly. The rest of us barely managed to escape before being discovered and eliminated with them." His voice was harsh with pain and hatred. “Aren’t you proud of your people, you damn Cardássian? Don’t you wish for the glorious days when you were in the middle of such attacks, killing shrinecrawlers and taking pride in how many you eliminated with one shot? Or perhaps even pushing guard duty in the camps?”

Melset, taken unawares, called out, “No, Rendon, never the camps!” and looked over at the two, eyes wide. _With the operative gone, they might find out what I really am. I have to keep them off track as long as possible, and can only hope that the padds were passed on, not stored._ She went over to Alosa who was barely controlling her grief, hesitantly addressed her then spoke to her gently. Alosa's reaction would show whether her role was still a secret. _I am safe_, was her thought when the Bajoran woman did not curse her, only nodded silently, accepting her attempt at consolation.

Again Rendon, , "Look at that! A Cardassian with compassion for inferior Bajorans! Isn’t that touching?" He glared at her, his eyes dark with hatred, "I still say we should have done away with you as soon as you were found, spoonhead. What role did you play in this attack anyway? You were taken to that cell just under four months ago! This is too much of a coincidence, isn't it?"

"The loss of those men is bad for our group as a whole, but not of her making. Look beyond the differences! She suffered at the hands of her own people for speaking for us and is still paying for it. She knows she can never return to her worlds, to her own people again. She remembers having known things that have been erased from her mind. Do you realize what that would mean for one of us? Do you think she would be here now if she were an operative?" Yokim said.

_A most fortunate reaction. Hopefully the operative will be replaced soon. I certainly will obtain even more information as of now, and with fewer difficulties_.

“But what about you?” asked Melset. “Outside this area, you may be suspected of being collaborators as you have taken me in. And as to myself, do not think I will be left unharmed as one of the few accessible former enemies. Killing spoonheads, as you call us, will become of little more consequence than killing a pest in your fields, will even be considered a praiseworthy action. There is too much hatred and resentment, all of it justified." She added, "And my compatriots may well come to retake me at some time. We never forget even minor details. Not even one condemned traitor left behind to be killed by the natives."

"I know. But you did say that you were equipped with a transponder, and that the signal ended when your uniform was vaporized. The other one, in your right arm, the medic cut it out while you were unconscious, destroyed it, thus both signals ended. The other matter we can still discuss.” Yokim told her. “Don't think your presence here is not known to those living in this area. You have been observed ... constantly. You will be safe.

“Some of us have even taken in half-blood children who were abandoned by their mothers for fear of the social stigma because even though those specific children were a result of rape, a few women made up these stories to disguise the fact they had consented to gain personal advantages. Whatever your people may think about us, we do not leave someone to his or her fate, even if that individual has committed a grave error. We believe in forgiveness. You, Iníki, you have done nothing wrong apart from your suggestion, and that concerns your people, not ours," Malja added.

Two months after Loris' death, no new operative had been brought in. Rumours about extensive troop movements and even the end of the Occupation began to circulate as garrisons were moved out and not replaced, military installations destroyed after being given up. Melset was apprehensive. Could it be that she was to be left behind, on Bajor? She had spoken for the Bajorans some years before; her mission on Bajor was cut short due to the imminent withdrawal of Cardassian forces … surely the Order had been informed long before, could have recalled her… was this her real sentence, pronounced without her knowledge? These sentences did exist: keeping the condemned alive to live with the knowledge of his banishment. She remembered Garak and wondered what had become of him.

Collecting information had become insultingly easy to access now that the Bajorans were becoming increasingly confident, priding themselves in finally having forced the occupiers to leave, openly and proudly telling stories about the various cells' exploits, some of which were so daring as to seem incredible. The full extent of the resistance was astonishing; it was no wonder that even the surgically-altered spies had not been able to shut it down. Virtually the entire population had been involved to a greater or lesser degree, even though many had paid dearly for their activities.

True to Cardassian ways which meant working out problems alone, she began keeping to herself, hardly speaking to the others. At the same time she was concerned about her own attitude towards her hosts._ I have developed understanding for them, even like them, have gone against all the rules I repeatedly cautioned my own personnel to always keep in mind_.

In spite of imminent withdrawal, the danger of raids, however, was not over. Reports on wholesale destruction of shrines, villages and cities came in; it appeared that whatever the occupying forces could not take off-world, they were certainly not going to leave behind to be used by the Bajora, either, compelled as they were to give up their plans for colonization of the planet. In the meantime, she was asked to join the other villagers in watching out for attack parties. Melset agreed, often volunteered, desperately hoping to be recalled in the course of one of these incursions.

Some weeks later, she was working in the fields together with the Bajorans just outside the village when she saw a Cardassian shuttle in the far distance, heading towards their area. It was flying slowly, at low altitude, quartering the ground in a search pattern. With renewed hope that had her pulse racing, Melset straightened, _I am indeed being recalled!_ She nearly laughed with relief. In a reaction she would not have had only some months earlier, her concern was for the villagers who had protected her; she wanted them to stay unharmed, especially as she had obtained the information needed, had done what she had been sent to do. The gesture she was about to make would validate the cover story to perfection…

With a loud cry of, “All of you! Find cover!” Melset ran towards a nearby copse as if trying to escape, “I’ll distract them, Cardassian life-signs should be far more interesting than yours….”

Within moments, the group of Bajorans had vanished, everyone had a refuge of his or her own close by in case of surprise activities, used as they were to sudden attacks.

She hardly had the time to run more than a hundred metres than a phaser blast struck the ground next to her, raising a cloud of soil, the impact of the blast hurling her to the ground. The shuttle landed nearby and at once, a gul came out, accompanied by three troops.

Gul Torel quickly looked around and found Melset half-stunned, trying to get to her feet and shouted to his officers, "Arrest this traitor. This time she will not escape or find protection," and, to Melset, with utter contempt, "You thought you had escaped your sentence, did you, you traitor. Hiding among this filth, accepting their protection, perhaps even praying with them in their shrines for deliverance, adopting their ways, turning away from all that is Cardassian! Look at yourself! You have become no better than that shrine-crawling vermin! No wonder you made that suggestion."

Turning to his troops, he roughly pulled Melset to her feet. With a vocalization of disgust, he let go of her only to strike her. "Your trial will begin the moment we arrive on Cardassia Prime, and, I swear, I will request the Order see to it every single moment of the interrogation and trial will be transmitted for public viewing so that the people of Cardassia will learn about your betrayal of all our union stands for. The way you appear now, that is the way you will stand trial. Your family has already disassociated itself from you. You do not deserve to be a Cardassian citizen!"

From a distance, Yokim and a few others tried to see what was happening through the dispersing dust then, making use of the slightest cover, crept away to the shelter they had agreed on, but not before they had seen two of the soldiers take hold of Melset who apparently was resigned to recapture, manacle her and, at phaser point, manhandle her towards the waiting shuttle.

Once aboard, Gul Torel stared at her disbelievingly for some moments before saying, "Welcome back to Cardassia, Gul Melset."

"It is good to be back." She stood at attention, saluted.

"At ease, Melset. I regret striking you, but the arrest had to be credible."

"No apology necessary. They would have become suspicious otherwise." She shrugged, "Just imagine, 'Ah, Gul Melset, good to see you have survived. Your mission is over. Do enter the shuttle, welcome home...'" She inquired, knowing that Masok, too, was working for the Order, "Why was no new operative brought in? The way it looked, I was expecting to be left behind, especially because of my suggestion some years ago. My Bajorans told me that our forces were leaving, but not being replaced and that bases and housing in the enclaves were being systematically destroyed."

Together, they walked into a small ready room. "The reason is quite simple, Gul Melset: We are withdrawing from Bajor. Detapa pressured Central Command to end the Occupation as the expense and manpower required to keep Bajoran terrorism in check no longer seemed justifiable, was taking away from our own," Gul Torel said disgustedly. “Full-scale colonization was no longer an option under the circumstances as Gul Dukat did not manage to realize the goals which actually should already have been fulfilled during his predecessor’s tenure.”

"So that is why the operative was not replaced! I had gathered so much information that we could have put the entire résistance in this province out of action." With a sigh of relief, Melset added, "I thought I was to be left behind, on Bajor."

"I have been directed by Orid Khalem to inform you that you are on the list of valuable informants, so leaving you behind would have been a waste of resources expended in educating an agent,” Torel considered her, then, remembering that his former mentor belonged to a relatively conservative ethnicity, chose a neutral phrasing. "Gul Melset, were you close to any of those Bajorans?"

She looked up at Torel, replying indifferently, "No. Even if I had, it would not have mattered. I … was processed."

Gul Torel commented, "I was told your collections of information were surprisingly comprehensive. Under better circumstances, the résistance in that province could have been eliminated, seriously weakened in others. The Order was pleased about your work. But as I’ve told you, withdrawal was agreed upon ten weeks ago, thus the details you accessed have become obsolete. You will be reassigned."

Melset accepted the fact, yet there was no mistaking her disappointment. "The experience was interesting, the experiment a success; yet preparing for it made a form of re-education necessary which will be reversed in the Order’s centre. It will be interesting to see how that will be done. As to the material I gathered towards the end of my stay, I will present it nonetheless at my debriefing. Perhaps the Obsidian Order can make use of it in future."

Gul Torel knew that the news was difficult to accept, all that effort and risk for nothing …. The official part of recall over, he relaxed and carefully looked at her, amused, especially as he had known her while she still was commander of the Orissà. "Let's see, Gul Melset... You certainly have gone native! Bajoran dress, hairstyle, even an earring … we were not expecting you to survive, and here you are. Like a Bajoran!" He suppressed an urge to laugh.

The only reaction was, "Everything I did was in the interest of Cardassia; I repeat: had I not made this effort, seemingly adapting to and imitating those people, there would have been far less information for the Order. And now, I would appreciate getting back into uniform."

Torel looked at her pensively, recognized that his former mentor seemed perturbed._ All that material you had gathered, living among that superstitious, violent populace and now to be told it was no longer needed_… “Gul Melset, this is too good an occasion to let pass unused,” he suggested, grinning broadly. "Just a few more minutes."

He turned to the Var who was staring at Melset in disbelief, "Var Retano, stop gawping like an idiot and get the navigator."

A few moments later, the door opened and Melset saw her brother enter. "Glinn Damar reporting."

"I thought you might like to see whom we have just repatriated." Torel stepped aside, and gestured at Melset.

At seeing his sister, Damar's expression shifted from curious to incredulous before he went over to briefly take her hands in his, then embrace her, his pleasure evident. "I was told you had been sent on a mission to Bajor, but not given any details. It’s good to see that you are home again and safe.”

"It was successful, Glinn Damar, apart from the fact we are withdrawing." She touched the insignia he was now wearing, smiled up at him. "I see that you have been promoted."

"Yes, I am Glinn Second Order now, and in another half year will return to the Academy for the last phase of Command Training." His relief she had not adapted as totally as her outfit suggested was nearly tangible. "How did you cope with those primitives?"

His eyes reflected increasing concern as Melset explained, "Remarkably well, all considered; they were relatively easy to manipulate. The mission proper was highly interesting, a true challenge, and hopefully will open the path to more missions in future." She met his glance directly, "Avron, remember, I was not forced into anything. I volunteered and I succeeded."

"Look at yourself, Iníki, listen to yourself. You have changed," he said quietly, suppressing his apprehension; he noticed that she was using very slight gestures that definitely were not customary among their people. “Iníki,” he added, his voice barely audible so that only she could hear, "What have they done to you? You have become different!"

She shook her head, “No, Glinn Damar, what you are noticing is only due to pre-mission re-education. It is mandatory for all who have off-world missions so that they can integrate into the society in question, thus have a chance of survival; I assure you, the effects are entirely reversible. In one or two weeks at most they will have been eliminated.”

Gul Torel had noticed the gestures as well as Melset's inflection, and thought it best to end the scene. "After this most touching family reunion you may want to get into civilized clothing, and you, Glinn Damar, your station is waiting."

With a backwards glance, Damar marched out, disguising concern for his sister.

“I know that Damar is worried, but it was necessary to adopt these elements of communication, or else I could not have gained these people’s trust. ‘Ah look, the Cardi is adapting!’ I was even taken into a family.” Melset laughed. “Had I refused that privilege they offered, that would have raised suspicions, especially at this time.”

Torel, accompanied Melset to her cabin while informing her on developments. "I have a uniform for you and, if you wish, get whatever you want out of the replicator. You'll no doubt appreciate decent food after nearly a year! Afterwards, join me on the bridge. We can talk then as this is no patrol; my cruiser is waiting at some distance outside the Bajoran system. I was ordered to pick you up on our way back to Cardassia Prime."

After he had left, Melset went to look at herself in the mirror before taking off and folding the clothing she had been given, then showered and reassumed her Gul's uniform. It felt comfortingly familiar, as did the beep of the intercom, "Docking procedures initiated."

Glinn Masok notified her, "We have reached the Orissà and will transfer in a few minutes."

They got off the shuttle and walked through the corridors of Torel's ship. "These are your quarters, Gul."

"Dismissed, Glinn Masok."

The returnee sat on her bunk and, while reading the information on the padd she had been given, prepared to face a world she had feared she would never be a part of again, then left her cabin and, getting into the turbolift, demanded, "Bridge."

Gul Torel was in the center seat, flanked by two Glinns. At seeing Melset get out of the turbolift, he quickly spoke to one of them and he left the bridge. "Gul Melset, there is a subspace message for you. I have had it rerouted to my ready room."

After she had listened to it, she quietly sat at Gul Torel's desk for some time. She had received commendations for her work, and would be permanently instated as a liaison between Central Command and the Order immediately after her debriefing, then resume training in various departments before being redeployed in the Order’s service.

Command of a ship and crew, that part of her life had become a thing of the past, but this form of service was compensation enough. _There will be no more tours of duty on Bajor, now that withdrawal has nearly been completed, but perhaps the Order will assign me that position on Earth that was mentioned. Yet again, await developments_, she thought as she went out to the bridge, anticipating new challenges, yet trying to deny feelings she would never have dared admit, not even to herself.


End file.
